


Stark Raving

by EmilaWanKenobi



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilaWanKenobi/pseuds/EmilaWanKenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An answer to Emma's "rave" challenge. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Stark Raving

|  [Master Apprentice](http://www.masterapprentice.org/html/index.html) [Archive](http://www.masterapprentice.org/html/archive.html) Stark Raving  | 

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## Stark Raving

### by Emila-Wan Kenobi 

    

Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... [emila_wan@yahoo.com](mailto:emila_wan@yahoo.com)

Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at <http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm>

Category: Pre-slash, drama 

Pairing: Q/O 

Rating: R 

Summary: An answer to Emma's "rave" challenge. 

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play. 

Silly me! I forgot to mention that there is a photomanip illustration to go with this story. It can be found on my images page: <http://www.jediphiles.com/~emila/images>

There are a couple of extra illustrations there with no stories to go with them ... yet. If anyone wants to take up the challenge of writing a story to go with "Waiting" or "Forest Temptation" please go for it. 

    

As he walked through the dimly lit caverns of Celestia IX, Master Qui-Gon Jinn probed the training bond he shared with his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man's mind was ... fuzzy. Sensations of light and heat and something undefinable washed through him; the feelings waxed and waned in and out of focus in a rhythmic fashion. Qui-Gon sensed no distress, and was more amused than worried that his padawan had not returned to their guest suite at the time promised. After all, Qui-Gon had given him leave to celebrate the successful end of their mission with the planet's young people. Still, he could not let Obi-Wan stay out _all_ night. And he had to admit he was curious to see what had so enthralled his padawan that the normally courteous young man did not bother to warn his master he would be late. 

He kept his pace measured and sedate as he followed the Plenipotentiary's Third Secretary, a human called Mietam, through a system of underground caverns. Mietam was a stereotypical Celestian, a sycophant with more nose than brains, who fluttered his hands nervously as he chattered away. His words were like buzzing insects, harmless but annoying, and Qui-Gon had to suppress a sigh. He would be glad to leave Celestia IX, if only to have a few moments of quiet while in deep space. 

"As I said," Mietam repeated for the seventh time, "these ... events ... are _technically_ illegal, but the Enforcement Bureau turn a blind eye unless things start to get out of hand. With our geography, the young people need a way to let off steam ... such as it were." He chuckled nervously at his own joke, and Qui-Gon forced himself to smile politely. 

Mietam referred to the planet's unusual geothermal features. Too far from its sun to be habitable on the surface, Celestia IX boasted millions of kilometers of caverns and abandoned kwartzin mines which now served as home to its people. The caverns were, to Qui-Gon's senses, a little too warm and sulfurous for comfort. Steam drifted from cracks in the rock, betraying the presence of a molten core close to the surface. Yet with no moons and little influence from the sun, Celestia IX had no active volcanos. Living and working conditions were, if not pleasant (there was no indigenous life larger than microbes), at least fairly safe. 

Unlike most mining operations, the recovery of undamaged kwartzin required nimble fingers rather than brute force. Apparently, Qui-Gon reflected, it also engendered a fear of silence. He had begun counting; on their long walk from the citadel, Mietam had let no more than six seconds pass without speaking. 

"Ah, here we are. They like to congregate on the edge of the rifts. A youthful craving for danger, I suppose." 

As they turned a sharp corner, strange, driving music reached them from about half a kilometer away. In the distance Qui-Gon could see a crowd perched on a flat outcropping along the edge of a vast rift in the planet's crust. Steam rose from lava flowing hundreds of meters below the sheer drop. Qui-Gon craned his neck upwards. A thin ribbon of white sky glowed far above. Snow drifted from the surface and melted as it reached the temperate zone where they stood. 

He walked along the wide ledge, ignoring Mietam's commentary on the geological features of the rift. He was more interested in the lack of safety precautions. By his estimation there were several hundred humanoid bodies writhing and swaying on that ledge, dangerously close to a fatal drop. He shook his head mentally, wondering at a society that would let its young people take such risks. In almost the same moment, he laughed at himself. How many near-death experiences had he led Obi-Wan into? At some point, one had to let go and trust. 

As they neared the crowd, the music became almost unbearably loud. The bass rhythm seemed to him like a second pulse. He stopped and peered into the mass of bodies, trying to pick out Obi-Wan. The dancers were mostly young -- teenagers, at a guess -- in various states of undress. Heat and light from thermal vents drifted around them, making them look almost ethereal. Qui-Gon had no doubt that many of them were intoxicated. He was glad he could trust Obi-Wan to be more sensible. 

"I say!" Mietam sputtered beside him, pointing. "Isn't that your apprentice up there?" 

Qui-Gon followed the gesture and looked up. Above the main ledge was another, lesser outcropping where a handful of young people danced. Qui-Gon wondered how they had scaled the cliff to get there until he realized -- with a startling jolt of lust -- that one of the dancers was Obi-Wan. 

Clearly, Qui-Gon reflected, he did not know his apprentice as well as he thought. 

Obi-Wan had discarded his Jedi uniform in favor low-slung trousers of some sort of shiny, hide-like material, black and skin-tight. He wore nothing else, and his bare chest shone with sweat as the lights and steam swirled around him. He twisted and undulated his perfect body to the strident beat, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. Then, as Qui-Gon watched, a young girl in little more than undergarments sidled up to Obi-Wan and began to grind herself against him. Obi-Wan turned, took her generous hips in his hands, and covered her mouth with his own. The girl raised one leg and wrapped it around Obi-Wan's thigh. Their bodies moved together in a sinuous imitation of lovemaking. Qui-Gon felt his mouth go dry at the sight. 

He realized Mietam was standing silent beside him, staring. _At least something can make him shut up,_ Qui-Gon thought uncharitably. And then: _I must do something to stop this._ 

He pushed his way through the crowd toward the back wall, never taking his eyes off his apprentice. A young man with green hair grinned maniacally and popped a capsule under his nose as he passed. Qui-Gon saw the flash; felt the rush of glitterstim hit his brain. He stopped, shook his head for a moment to clear it, then walked on. 

The spice enhanced all his senses. He imagined he could smell Obi-Wan's sweat, feel the heat of his body. He'd never before thought of his apprentice this way, never before seen him as a man, an object of desire, but now he wondered how he could have been so blind. He grimaced, chiding himself. It changed nothing. He'd not waste time wanting what he couldn't have. Qui-Gon reflected ruefully he was about as different from the young woman in Obi-Wan's arms as he could possibly get. 

He was almost to the ledge when another youth, this one fair-haired, well-muscled, and very male, approached Obi-Wan, sliding deftly behind him and plastering his nearly naked body against Obi-Wan's back as they moved together in the dance. The young man spread his palms on Obi-Wan's abdomen and ran them up and down his chest, scraping across nipples that Qui-Gon could now see were taut and flushed with arousal. Qui-Gon realized he had stopped moving and now watched breathlessly to see what Obi-Wan would do. 

Obi-Wan let the young man touch him for a little while, then he gently disengaged from the girl and turned to give his new partner a blistering kiss. Qui-Gon could see the wet gleam of their tongues mating, sliding and tasting. The girl, far from being jealous, laughed and slid her hands along Obi-Wan's flanks, then around to the straining bulge in front. Qui-Gon was close enough to hear his apprentice moan as the girl caressed him. 

He wanted to moan himself, but the small portion of him that wasn't consumed by lust was appalled at this public display. The Jedi had a reputation to uphold, after all. He pushed past the remaining dancers and casually leaped the few meters to the outcropping, landing solidly next to the trio. They moved away from him, mildly startled but not frightened. They seemed too far gone to feel much of anything. 

Obi-Wan gave him a grin. "Hullo, Master," he said huskily. "Come to join the fun?" 

Qui-Gon had to shout to be heard over the music. "No, I've come to take you back to our quarters. You've had quite enough fun for one evening." 

Obi-Wan turned his head and gave the young man who still clung to him another long, sensual kiss. When he was finished he looked at Qui-Gon with amusement in his eyes. "I'm not sure I'm quite done sampling the cultural treasures of this planet, Master." The girl continued to fondle Obi-Wan, her hand now firmly inside the front of his trousers. She gave Qui-Gon a lascivious smirk. They all moved sinuously to the rhythm pounding the air. 

Qui-Gon hesitated. He had never before interfered in his apprentice's sexual liaisons, and he wondered if he should do so now. Obi-Wan had always been discreet before ... at least, Qui-Gon assumed he had. He was startled to realize he had no idea what his padawan got up to on his infrequent nights out. He only knew he wanted that girl to stop touching _his_ Obi-Wan. 

The shock of _that_ thought left him speechless for too long, and Obi-Wan filled the gap. 

"Why don't you join us?" he shouted, and gave Qui-Gon a mischievous and very obvious wink. 

Qui-Gon drew himself a little taller. "I hardly consider this a culturally enlightening activity." 

"Podium dancing is a perfectly valid artform," Obi-Wan said in mock hurt. 

"This is not a podium, it is a small ledge overlooking certain, instant death, and you are intoxicated." 

Obi-Wan leaned forward and said, voice lower than Qui-Gon had ever heard it, "_You_ intoxicate me, Master." 

Qui-Gon felt himself sway for a moment. He willed himself not to think about what Obi-Wan had just said. _He's not rational right now._ 

"It's dangerous," Qui-Gon said instead. 

Obi-Wan gave him a wide grin and threw out his arms. "It's exhilarating!" 

Qui-Gon grasped one of Obi-Wan's flailing limbs. "Let's go." 

Obi-Wan looked down at the large hand encircling his biceps, then back up, his eyes teasing. "Can't wait to get me alone?" 

"Padawan ..." 

"Come on, live in the moment. Here, drink this." In his other hand he produced a small vial of pale liquid, which he pressed against Qui-Gon's lips. 

Qui-Gon sputtered and spat the substance out, but not before he felt the small amount on his lips enter his bloodstream. A wave of pure hedonistic pleasure rippled through him. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "What is that?" he shouted, trying to feel indignant but failing. 

"They call it Ecstasy. I can tell you the chemical composition if you like, but it's harmless. Lowers your inhibitions, that's all." 

_All I need,_ he thought, and grimaced. "Is it supposed to taste like that?" 

Obi-Wan laughed and spun, pulling Qui-Gon with him into the center of the cluster of youths. His hands rose to the back of Qui-Gon's head and pulled him down for a long, deep kiss. There were no preliminaries, just lips and tongue and teeth, sliding wetly, tasting and probing. As from a distance, Qui-Gon felt his arms come up in response, crushing the smaller body against his. He heard himself moan deep in his throat. When the kiss ended, he clutched at his apprentice for support, breathing hard. 

"Taste better?" Obi-Wan teased. 

Qui-Gon's only response was another kiss, this one even more passionate than the first. By the Force, he wanted this, wanted his padawan the way he'd never wanted anything in his life, and if this night was all he could have, he'd worry about regrets in the morning. He felt Obi-Wan's deft hands stripping him of his cloak, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but that talented mouth, robbing him of all reason. 

Suddenly Qui-Gon broke the kiss, gasping. He had felt a disturbance in the Force. He tried to free himself from Obi-Wan's embrace, but the young man had insinuated his hand inside Qui-Gon's pants, and as those clever fingers found their target, Qui-Gon's brain attempted to implode. 

A tiny spark of duty still remained. With a mighty effort of will, Qui-Gon pulled completely away and shoved Obi-Wan up against the cliff face, his large hands splayed across the young man's sweaty, heaving chest. "Clear your head, Pawadan. There's danger here. Don't you sense it?" 

Obi-Wan panted, a series of emotions flashing in his eyes too quickly to catalog. "I can't sense anything," he said after a moment. His eyes dropped to Qui-Gon's hands on his chest. "Except you." 

Exasperated, Qui-Gon took a step back. He drew his lightsaber, turned, and leapt from the outcropping to the main ledge below. Young people scattered as he landed among them, some screaming, some laughing hysterically as they stumbled out of his way. Mietam gaped at him. "What's wrong?" he shouted. 

"I don't know yet," Qui-Gon said tersely. He gripped his still-deactivated 'saber in both hands. Adrenaline and a touch of the Force had cancelled out the effects of the drugs, leaving him alert and calm. He stretched out his senses, searching for the source of his disquiet. 

He sensed it a moment before the rumbling started. Only his strength with the Force enabled him to hear it over the loud music. "Get back from the edge!" he shouted. He shoved Mietam toward the caverns, shouting, "Summon help!" Turning, he dashed through the crowd to where dancers skirted the unprotected lip of the massive ledge and began hauling them bodily back toward the wall. Some of them heeded him, but most seemed bemused by his actions. They stood and gaped at him, or ignored him completely. His instincts told him he had only moments, and there were too many of them to move one at a time like this. 

He whirled and saw Obi-Wan dashing to join him, barefoot and still poured into those unbelievably tight pants, but with his lightsaber in hand. Qui-Gon motioned for Obi-Wan to stop, then pointed him back toward the wall. Obi-Wan picked up on his intentions; he turned and made a spectacular leap over the heads of the crowd, landing next to the power generator for the amplification system. Not bothering with subtlety, he plunged his now-lit lightsaber into the machinery and rode out the flash of dying electronics. 

The music died, and seconds later, so did a myriad of shouted conversations. In the sudden silence, the low rumble of breaking rock echoed faintly in the rift. Qui-Gon saw the truth register on a number of faces around him. He used the Force to enhance his voice and his intent: "Remain calm. Move quickly away from the ledge and back inside the caverns. Do not run. Help your neighbor." 

Whether from the Force or the drugs, they obeyed, and began a very orderly evacuation from the ledge. Obi-Wan slid through the crowd and came to his side. Qui-Gon acknowledged him with a nod, then glanced toward the edge of the drop-off. Obi-Wan padded over and looked down. Qui-Gon did not need to look. The rumbling was getting louder, and now he could feel the vibrations through the soles of his boots. Obi-Wan jumped backwards. A meter or so of ledge crumbled, then slid downward as if it had been sliced with an invisible 'saber. Obi-Wan's eyes flashed at him. 

He nodded. Neither of them would say it aloud, but it was doubtful they would be able to get all these people off the ledge before the whole thing crumbled into the eroding lava below. Another two meters of ledge slid away. The crowd gave in to panic, and those at the rear began to push against the ones ahead of them. 

"Obi-Wan?" a fearful voice called. Qui-Gon looked toward the outcropping where Obi-Wan had been dancing. Five of his newfound friends still stood, unable to climb down without the Jedi's help. 

"Stay there," Obi-Wan called. "You're safe for now. I'll get you down once everyone's out of danger." 

Qui-Gon scoured the cliff face, looking for a solution. Another sliver of ledge crumbled away behind them. About half the crowd had made it safely into the tunnel system; the rest still milled urgently. Some had begun to push, and the mass of beings ebbed and swayed like one creature. Only a few meters ahead of Qui-Gon, a girl stumbled, her foot slipping very near the edge, before a friend reached out to steady her. 

"Remain calm!" Qui-Gon urged again. "Do not push! Help your neighbor!" 

Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly near his ear. "Perhaps it will stop before the entire ledge is gone." 

"One can always hope," Qui-Gon said, and turned. He met Obi-Wan's mischievous look and smiled. "What do you find so amusing, Padawan?" 

"I was just thinking I can't die," he said softly, and took a step sideways as another bit of ledge crackled away. "Not now that I've finally had the nerve to ..." He looked down, and Qui-Gon realized he'd been staring into Obi-Wan's moss-colored eyes as if he might dive into them. Obi-Wan's hands clenched; the knuckles of his 'saber hand whitened. 

"So it wasn't just the Ecstasy talking?" Qui-Gon asked, turning to stare again at the cliff face, almost afraid to hear the answer, though he wasn't sure why. 

"I didn't say or do anything I haven't been thinking about for ... for a very long time," Obi-Wan said huskily. 

"I see." Qui-Gon could not seem to drag his eyes away from the cliff, and the cluster of young people still stranded on the upper ledge. He took a deep breath, let it out. "What about your friends?" 

Obi-Wan looked up, and he smiled. "They thought it might be ... instructive ... for you to see me in a different light." 

Qui-Gon shook his head. "We can discuss how I see you at a more appropriate moment. For now, I was wondering how you planned to get them down." 

"Oh." Obi-Wan looked up. They were very near the cliff face now. The majority of the crowd had made it off the larger outcropping onto the narrower ledge that led to the cavern entrance. So far the erosion had not affected the narrower ledge. It would be a near thing, but Qui-Gon dared to hope that they'd all get out of this alive. Fire-lit steam still danced around them, lending the whole scene a surreal air. 

Obi-Wan clipped his lightsaber to his belt and held out his hands. "Jump, Lista!" he shouted. 

The girl who had been dancing with Obi-Wan earlier shook her head, hands clenched under her chin in fright. 

"Come on, I levitated you up there! I can get you back down. Just trust me!" 

Lista shook her head again. The boy stepped forward. "I'll go!" he said, and stepped off the ledge. 

Qui-Gon reached out with the Force to help his apprentice, but there was no need. Obi-Wan deftly caught the young man and eased him to a soft landing near them at the back of the crowd. The young man turned and looked up. "Come on, everybody!" he said. One by one, the teenagers were levitated down from their perch, until only Lista remained. She adamantly refused to jump. 

Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. "I'll have to go get her." 

Qui-Gon nodded. The outcropping had continued to crumble, until now they stood on a ledge less than two meters wide. He reached out with his senses. The erosion had slowed, but it was not finished. He began to herd the group of Obi-Wan's friends further away from the edge. The lip of the walkway began to crumble. 

Obi-Wan had already leaped up to the girl. Now he stood looking down as the ledge he'd been standing on slid away into the boiling lava below. 

Qui-Gon measured the distance. He had no doubt his padawan could still make the jump, but could he do so with a girl in his arms? He willed himself to calm. Surely Obi-Wan was right; he couldn't die. Not now. Not when they'd just discovered how much more they could have with each other. 

Obi-Wan was shouting something at him. Qui-Gon pushed his senses to the limit, but it was gesture and inference rather than words that he finally understood. Obi-Wan wanted his cable launcher. He took it off his belt, even as he had to take another big step backwards to avoid sliding into the void, and tossed it in a high arc right into his padawan's waiting palm. Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around the girl's waist; she clung to him with all four limbs. With grace and precision, Obi-Wan launched the cable high above, then kicked off, swinging in a wide arc away from the cliff and over, playing out cable in just the right amount so that they landed at Qui-Gon's feet. 

Qui-Gon didn't have time to be astonished at his padawan's skill. He didn't have time to utter a word of praise. Obi-Wan shoved the girl into his arms with a terse, "Here!" and stumbled as the ground gave way beneath him. 

As if in slow motion, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's hand reach for the still-swinging cable launcher and miss. Obi-Wan's eyes turned to him, and a wave of strong affection came to him across their bond even as his apprentice disappeared from view. 

Qui-Gon might have shouted something; he didn't know. The girl was still clinging to him like a mynock. There was nothing he could do, he had to back away, get them all away, as even more rock slid down, down into that hellish stew below. 

A boy, pressed by the crowd, stumbled, and Qui-Gon had to use the Force to keep him from plunging over the edge. With a will he focused his mind on what he _could_ do, and let go of what he could not. There would be time enough later to let himself fall apart, to weep and to rage and to indulge in all the emotions a Jedi should not feel. He doubted once he did let go that he would ever be able to find serenity again. 

They reached the cavern entrance. A rescue crew had arrived, summoned by Mietam, but it was too little, too late. The narrow ledge had held for the last hundred meters. He no longer felt the distress of the rock as it eroded from below. The crisis was over. 

Mietam was there at his elbow, simpering. "They say it might have been the weight of the crowd, or the vibrations from the music. I can assure you these sorts of gatherings will not be allowed in the future." 

Qui-Gon barely registered the words. He finally had a chance to breathe, a chance to focus. He reached out through the bond, hoping against all odds that his apprentice had found a way to cheat death one more time. Instead of the void he expected, he felt pain, and determination, and desperation, all wrapped in the calm of a Jedi. Qui-Gon had never been more relieved -- or more proud -- than in that moment. 

He closed out everything around him and extended his senses. There! Obi-Wan was struggling, hanging by the smallest of holds, half-levitating himself as he climbed the jagged overhang suspended above the molten river. Qui-Gon sent a tendril of strength. Obi-Wan caught it and sent back a pulse of gratitude. 

He didn't remember doing it, but somehow Qui-Gon had kept enough presence of mind to retrieve his cable launcher. He used it now to drop over the edge of the cliff and gather his apprentice in his arms. 

Obi-Wan was bruised and beaten, covered in kwartzin dust, his fingers and toes bloodied and shredded. Qui-Gon thought he was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Tears streamed down Qui-Gon's cheeks, but he didn't care. Trembling, he clutched Obi-Wan to himself and kissed the filthy, spiky hair, over and over again. "Padawan," he said brokenly. "Don't ever do that to me again." 

Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck and clung to him as the cable drew them upwards. "I love you, too," he murmured, and kissed the skin at the edge of Qui-Gon's tunic. 

They reached the cavern mouth. A rescue worker tried to take Obi-Wan from his arms, but he wasn't having any. "Just let us alone," he said sharply. 

Whether from the tone of his voice or the look on his face, everyone backed away. Obi-Wan looked up at him, his eyes full of gratitude and trust and love. "I told you I couldn't die," he said raggedly. 

Not caring who was watching or what they might think, Qui-Gon bent his head and captured Obi-Wan's mouth in a gentle kiss. He poured everything he had across the bond -- all the love he felt for Obi-Wan, the pride, the trust, the desire, the admiration -- and felt his emotions returned a thousand fold. 

At last the kiss ended, and they both took a deep breath. Qui-Gon knew he was grinning madly, but he couldn't stop himself. 

"I've learned something from all this, Master," Obi-Wan said. 

Qui-Gon raised a brow in silent query. 

"At twenty-one I finally understand the meaning of real ecstasy." 

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Just wait, my young apprentice." He started walking, following the crowd back through the caverns to the settlement. "Your lessons in that regard have just begun." 

  
END 

* * *

  
(Evill Dr. Em's challenge -- a fic involving Obi Wan, Qui Gon, two other characters of your choice, an illegal rave, lightsabers and the following lines: "Is it supposed to taste like that?" "Podium dancing is a perfectly valid artform." and "At twenty-one Obi Wan finally understood the meaning of real ecstasy.")   
  


  

    


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